A stroke of luck

by Alexander-

Rating: teen
Tags: Caramel, Slice of Life, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance
Length: 3683

Caramel has always been known for his bad luck. It defines him. But will it change in the future?

Caramel has always been known for his bad luck. It defines him. But will it change in the future?

Published 2012-04-18 10:54:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-04-18 10:54:00 UTC

Chapter 1

Looking up from the table he was waiting on Caramel saw the young business stallion that walked past the café every day at five. Every weekday he had the pleasure of watching him traverse the cobbled street outside the small cafe in central Manehattan. With one hoof wiping a table and his mind else where it was little surprise when Caramel slipped and stumbled while seeing to a table full of middle aged mares. He was not a lucky colt, in fact his friends… the few that he had considered him the unluckiest person they knew. Everything he did ended in disaster and had so as long as he could remember. So it was no surprise he knocked a glass of wine that one of the middle ages mares was holding onto her lap.

With a loud exclamation she began to berate him and in graphic detail outline his inadequacies as a pony and a servant of her modern whim. Caramel did not dispute her claims. His life had come to this and he quietly accepted his fate. He did his best in any endeavor he entered but his luck was always against him. She continued telling him that he should have stayed in his mothers womb and that he would amount to nothing as a pony. These comments stung but he was used to them. Caramel apologized and glanced up again. The young business stallion was gone. He sighed at this lost opportunity to gaze longingly at that which he had wondered after so many days in that year. Caramel had moved from Phillydelphia to escape his family earlier that year and after acquiring a meager flat above a busy promenade in Manehattan he had applied for many jobs and eventually acquired a menial job waiting tables in a local café.

The hours were long but at least the pay was poor.

The first day of work Caramel had noticed the young pony walking past in a long coat. Caramel had seen the pony every day for the next week. He always made sure he was waiting tables at the same time every evening to catch a good glimpse at the pony.

Caramel had escaped his family because they had always inferred that there was something wrong with him. A deeply religious family they had struggled with his fatalistic approach and lack of desire to become a model church-goer. Caramel himself had never seen anything wrong with himself and had resented the implication that there was something amiss. In school he had always received unfair attention from bullies as he was not like the other colts. Caramel was keener on music and arts than sports or any of the other pursuits that the other boys were in to. Never seeing this as a weakness he had not hidden these passions and this had earnt him scorn and attention he did not necessarily deserve. The town had talked and eventually his family had listened. So he had moved away to the first place that he could find. Armed with only his bad luck and the name schoolyard friends had bestowed upon him he had attempted to find a new life. He had found only this small café and more of his bad luck. His famous, ever enduring, ever present bad luck.

The mare was still going. She was unlikely to stop as she had reached a certain crescendo that Caramel had learnt to recognize. Full of self-riotous furry and venom the mare would not stop short of a hurricane or murder. Caramel could not manage the first and would not think of the second. Maybe this mare had had a terrible day and his actions, no matter how unintentional or due to his trademark bad luck, had caused her to reach a point of utter discontentment with the world. He applogised and offered the pony his apron to clean herself with and slunk back into the café knowing that he would receive a severe talking to and possibly a firing. Collecting himself he looked into the mirror above the bar. His coat, which was the color of caramel and hence his nickname, was a mess. He looked bedraggled and his mane had fallen across his face.

He thought briefly of the pony who he had seen earlier. He thought out of curiosity only. He was fascinated with the stallions life which was obviously so dramatically different from his own. Maybe the young pony was blessed with good luck and fine fortune. Maybe he didn’t have luck that would make most ponies weep but instead had fortune fall at his feet. Caramel was lost in thought of the stranger’s life until he reached the next table out on the cobbled stones outside the small café. Without thinking he handed the patron the menu and began to quietly recite the specials word for word. He did not notice the dress or form of the patron for he was having possibly the worst day know to man and all he wanted at the point was to escape back to his relatively uncomfortable bed and ignore the existence of the world around him. Soft saxophone music drifted from the street as some busker pony played a demur melody.

“What would you have?” Came a soft musical voice from the patron. Caramel was annoyed at the question. What would he have? Anything not from here, he thought.

“Well the apple salad is not bad” he replied off hand. Finally looking down Caramel saw the young stallion in the long coat sitting at the table looking benignly up at him.

Choking a little on his words his eyes quickly darted away to avoid making unnecessary eye contact. He was an outstandingly handsome unicorn with a brilliantly golden mane and a beautiful off white coat. Looking down Caramel could see a magnificent glowing golden sun which was the pony’s cutie mark. Caramel choked a little and stared at the pony for a second too long. The stranger laughed.

“That sounds fine… And a cider please mate” he said in a strange accent. Not quite English yet not quite anything else. It sounded almost Oatstralian but far too proper and almost old worldly so not Oatstralian. Caramel had only experienced the standard Oatstralian tourist. Crass, stupid and with no ability to tip he had taken no liking to them.

“Certainly” he replied nervously and made a hasty retreat. Walking to the kitchen Caramel wondered what he was going to say to the pony when he returned. He looked about his own age but caramel could not figure out why he found this other person so interesting. He certainly didn’t find him to be attractive! Caramel had made that mistake once before falling in love with someone from a far that had no interest in him. So why then did this pony hold so much appeal for him? Ignoring his other orders Caramel retrieved the beer for the business pony and put through his order for his apple salad. Returning to his table he deposited the cider in front of the young man and turned around to return to the kitchen.

“I walk past this restaurant every day and every day you are out the front serving a table or doing some odd or end. Every day I see you. Why is that?” the stallion said inquiringly.

Terrified Caramel stared at him not knowing what to say.

“I… Ummm… Well I guess it’s just… coincidence?” he managed to stutter out as the pony sat there calmly.

“Well I guess it’s just… coincidence then” he said with a wide smile that seemed to lighten the world and make the sun shine through the cloud. Caramel gulped, looked up and saw that in fact the sun had begun to shine through the overcast sky and light the street with golden afternoon sunshine. He smiled nervously and grabbed some glasses from a nearby table. Attempting to make a silent exit Caramel started to walk back towards the kitchen and safety. He didn’t know this colt and, he thought to himself, did not want to.

He didn’t see the chair.

Next thing he knew he was flying though the air and had let go of the glasses. Silently in the back of his head he cursed his own bad luck and cursed that he looked a fool in front of all these customers including the business pony. Caramel came to peace that he would hit the cobbled pavement before he hit it. But he never did. He landed in someone’s hooves and as he looked up he saw the business pony’s face gazing down at him with a concerned look upon his face.

“Are you ok?” he said in his strange accent.

Unable to look him in the face he muttered a strained thank you and scrambled into the kitchen. Shame wrought his face and his cheeks felt aflame. He had made a fool of himself in front of someone he did not know. He would not normally care but on this occasion he did for some strange reason.

As normal he was so consumed by his own thoughts that he didn’t notice his boss Ale waiting for him with a look of annoyance on his face. Grabbing him roughly by the color the grey earth pony dragged Caramel into a recess in the kitchen and began to yell. Caramel simply sat there and accepted the abuse with his normal level of acceptance. What was happening was happening and what was going to happen was going to happen. He couldn’t foresee it or change it so why get upset about it when it happened?

“I had to give them their meals for free! Channel you idiot! Her dress was Channel! I am lucky that she didn’t make me pay for a new one.” Ale yelled. He stopped to breathe deeply for another round of abuse but stopped and looked at the forlorn figure standing head down and cap in hoof in front of him.
“You are either the unluckiest or stupidest person I have ever met Lucky.” Using Caramels real name indicated what was going to happen next and also brought tears to his eyes at the cruel irony of his birth name.

“I am sorry but I cannot afford to endure your accidents any longer! You will have to go. I am sorry.” He said and Caramel knew that he really was sorry.

Caramel had taken a liking to Ale over the few months he had worked for him and he liked to believe that the same was true in return. To be fair Ale had every reason to sack him many times before but had restrained from doing so. So Caramel was grateful for that at least.

“I am sorry too” he replied meekly taking off his apron and passing it to Ale. Without making a fuss or a scene Caramel looked him in the face and smiled weakly, turned and walked out the main entrance. He would of taken the back exit out of the café but the delivery pony was blocking the way with a shipment so he was forced to walk past all the customers including, he thought to himself, the angry mare and the business pony. He certainly passed the mare who practically hissed at him but the young business pony was gone. His food had arrived in the time it had taken for Ale to berate him but stood untouched as did his cider. There was a piece of paper sitting wedged under the plate. Caramel out of a sense of duty more than anything else picked up the piece of paper thinking it to be the bill and glanced at it. Beneath it was the exact change for the meal and an exceptionally large tip. Caramel stared at the paper. It simply said

Things will get better.

In elegantly long flowing handwriting. Nothing more and nothing less. Caramel stared dumbly at the paper and grabbed the tip. He didn’t deserve it but he would need it in the days to come without an income. He vowed that if he ever saw the pony again he would return it to him. Glancing up towards the sky Caramel saw that the sun had continued to shine through the clouds and so with mixed emotions he headed down the street towards his small apartment above the busy main street.

As caramel walked he felt as if the sun followed him and its warmth on that cold autumn afternoon did wonders for his spirits and as he reached the large wooden door that lead to his apartment he almost felt good. It wasn’t to last though. As he put the key into the lock the door did not resist as normal. Instead it swung inwards to reveal the steps leading up to his apartment. Swallowing with dread he started up the stairs one hoof at a time and as his head peaked high enough for him to see the small room that was his living space he gasped.

Everything in the room had been upturned. His cloths and books lay either on his bed or on the floor; his small TV (which he hardly used anyway) was gone as was his small computer and electric keyboard, which had cost him months of saving as a young colt. He felt dread as he looked across at the book shelf in search of his most prized possession. A silver necklace that his grandmother had given him on his birthday a few months before she had died was missing. As the only pony in his family who he felt close to the necklace had been special to him and its loss hurt more than all the other items combined. Caramel knew that he would never find it again and as that realization set in he lay down and wept. Sheer misery overcame him as he sat on the bed, put his head in his hooves and openly wept. He was alone, jobless and robbed of the few possessions he had to make this room feel like a home. He wept for the fact that he was alone, that he really didn’t have a family and more than anything else the fact that he didn’t know what to do next.

He had always had a plan or at least an objective that he worked towards. When he had been a colt it had to gain his parents attention and affection as one of 5 offspring. This had been made harder by his disinterest in religion or any of the values that they held true. When he had been a school colt he had simply wanted to escape his home in suburbia and find a place to belong. He had though he had found that place but as always his luck had decided to make it impossible for him to have a home.

Fuck it, he though.

Getting up he left the trashed room and walked down the stairs only stopping to grab his stripped sweater and his coat. Emerging out onto the busy street he didn’t care if people saw him with red eyes, he didn’t care if someone was to go into his apartment because there was really nothing left to take and he didn’t care what was to come next. He only knew that he was going to find a bar.

Walking away and leaving the door unlocked and wide open he continued up the street obtaining a few odd glances. He smiled manically at these people as they passed. Ponies moved out of his way quickly like he was a rabid wolf. He didn’t care who saw him or what they thought of him. The feeling was rather liberating and he once again almost felt good as he pushed open the door into a large bustling bar full of hipsters ponies and business types getting a drink after a hard day’s work. Reaching inside his pocket he felt the tip that the young man had left him, which was wrapped around the piece of paper, he had left. What a joke! Caramel thought to himself as he took out the money and looked at the piece of paper.

Things will get better.

Taking the money he shoved the paper back into the pocket of his jacket. Caramel would have been rid of the piece of paper but he was determined to find a bin and not litter.

Walking straight to the bar he dropped his flank onto a stool and got the attention of the bar pony. He must have looked dangerous to the bar pony because he approached with a certain caution. Caramel ordered a cider as nicely as possible as it wasn’t this person fault that he was cursed. Receiving his drink he paid and began to quietly attempt to drink away the day’s occurrences. Making good progress into his drink he glanced around the bar and spotted a group of stallions making a commotion around a filly. Thinking that she might be in some need of help he wandered over to the group to get a better idea of the situation. Immediately he could see that she was not interested in the attention of all these stallions who were a little more than drunk.

“Guys I think the lady has made her intentions clear” he said to the nearest member of the group. Caramel was irritated by their crassness as much as anything else.

“Fuck off you little faggot” he replied turning his back again to indicate that the conversation was over.

“I am serious! Leave her alone!” He shouted. He was surprised at his own actions. He never shouted and here he was standing in front of a group of tourist shouting at all of them. What had gotten into him? Turning on him as a whole the four stallions stared at him for a second.

“Why are ya defending a whore? Don’t you know what she does? Anything you pay her for!” one of the group spluttered at Caramel. They all laughed at his comment. Tall with a buzz cut black mane the pony was clearly beyond reason.

“Why don’t you just leave” Caramel tried to say with authority. He knew he had failed to intimidate the others as one of them knocked the cider out of his hooves and pushed him into a table. Smashing a wooden stool Caramel sat on the ground on his flank with his forelegs in front of him. He had never been in a fight before. Wiping his lip with the back of his hoof he got back up again and lunged at the pony who had pushed him wanting not to do anything thing less than end his existence. It occurred to Caramel as he lunged at the pony that he was most likely going to die. Four on one were not good odds and normally he would avoid a fight like the plague but something had snapped. He was not going to be pushed around anymore and unfortunately these were the people who had supplied the breaking point.

The next few moments were a blur as he fought with hooves flailing and teeth bared. Caramels next thought was of pain as all four individuals focused their attention away from the filly and onto him. Blinding pain overwhelmed his senses as he was kicked into submission. His next memory of the event was being thrown onto the street with the other four where they continued where they left off before the bouncer had intervened. They only stopped kicking him once Caramel lay whimpering on the ground with blood flowing from many open wounds on his face and body. Laughing they began down one of the side alley’s ways that littered the streets in that area. By this time it was late evening and the street lamps shed a dull light on the cobbles. There were few ponies around but few who cared about a bar fight so early on a Friday night.

Caramel staggered to his hooves and once again considered the path in life he had taken to reach this miserable point. Feeling blood drip from his nose he felt his face. Many areas were sore to the point where he was overcome with a wave of pain if he even touched them. His nose was most likely broken and was dripping blood at an alarming rate. Stumbling down the street he decided it was most likely time to go home if not to hospital. Taking the nearest alley towards home he staggered along on his shaky legs.

Limping along he heard a set of hoofsteps but it was too late. He felt a sharp point press firmly against his neck. Stopping dead in the alleyway he wondered if he had done something terrible in a past life to deserve this. Certainly he had not done anything in this life to deserve it.

“Gimme everything you’ve got or I’ll stick ya!” the rough guttural voice breathed in his ear around what he assumed was a knife.

At this point time seemed to stop. This pony wanted everything he had? Well then he could have it.

Caramel laughed. He laughed at this moment, at that day and his life in general. It was a joke after all. He laughed until his sides hurt.

“What’s so fucking funny?” the voice rasped again.

Caramel just continued to laugh and went to walk away. Then the pain came. A sharp mind-bendingly brutal piecing pain that lanced through his body as he was pushed to the cobbles. It turned the world black and his mind to nothingness. As he lay there bleeding, broken and robbed of his dignity he didn’t think of revenge but instead of that young business pony with a sun for a cutie mark he had met earlier. Maybe if things had of been different he would have had his life and not this one. It all slipped into obscurity as the light faded and he closed his eyes.